


Vex & Valor Investigations

by SomeBratInAMask



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Skulduggery Pleasant, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 13:52:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17245415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeBratInAMask/pseuds/SomeBratInAMask
Summary: Lovino Vargas is a normal kid with a loud mouth and a chip on his shoulder when his life gets turned inside out. The handsome, if a tad suspicious, Antonio Fernández rescues Lovino and his brother in the nick of time. But as Lovino learns more about his mysterious rescuer, he learns more about himself and his latent abilities. With their newfound commonality, Lovino and Antonio (or "Valorous Ace" as fellow mages know him!) embark as private investigators for a world with higher stakes and stranger folks.





	Vex & Valor Investigations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eyesocketsandsuits (writingandchocolatemilk)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingandchocolatemilk/gifts).



> [swirls wine glass] They say you can't go home again...
> 
> I wrote this for my friend because her two fandoms (only two!) are Skulduggery Pleasant and Hetalia. Her otp is Spamano. I snuck in my old otp because there's no way I can just wander back over here without paying a visit to the old flame. 
> 
> Anyways, I might continue this. I have all the notes I need for a full-fledged plot and I haven't exactly been forthcoming with the worldbuilding this chapter. We'll see, we'll see. At any rate, happy holidays!

“It’s nice, right?”

Vex turned the little card over in his hand, noting the laminate and the color print. _Vex & Valor Investigations,_ it read in bold yet elegant font. Valorous had even listed Vex’s name first, which seemed out of character for the guy. But there they were in that order – Vexation Cerise and Valorous Ace – right above the number of their shared work phone. It _was_ nice.

“Looks expensive,” he said instead, chucking the business card into the console space of Valorous’ 2018 Bentley Continental GT.

Valorous just laughed and took a sharp turn onto the highway. Wherever their client lived, it required the interstate. “Not as expensive as my car payments,” he justified.

“Yeah, no shit. That’s why we can’t be blowing money on fucking stationary.”

“Gotta’ spend money to make money,” Valorous trilled. And for all the outlandish impracticality that marked Valorous’s lifestyle, Vex had to admit, they had never been in _real_ want for money. From the day he and his brother Feliciano had shown up at Valorous’s door, newly orphaned and ready to stir trouble, _Antonio Fernández-Carriedo_ had provided. Albeit, in his own strange, $20-left-on-the-table, gone-for-weeks-at-a-time, some-doors-are-locked-and-it’s-none-of-our-business way.

It hadn’t taken Vex long to figure Valorous out. Of course, it hadn’t taken Valorous long to figure Vex out either. Vexation Cerise had been Lovino Vargas, one half of the twin boys belonging to immigrant parents. They always warned Lovino that if he kept being too loud, too – _unruly,_ he’d bring attention on the whole house. At the time, ICE was more fantasy than reality, a boogieman that didn’t come for families like his. And so he kept being loud until one day his parents were being shoved into police cars.

“Detained” was the word used. It was his first time hearing it. It became one of those funny phenomena where he never heard a word in his life but the second he did, the word was everywhere. On the news, during phone calls from family, and from the mouths of classmates and teachers.

Antonio had been sitting in the cramped waiting room of the local police station. Feliciano was speaking to some employee, demanding to know where their parents had been transferred to. His voice was starting to crack, which was embarrassing to listen to, so Lovino looked around the room, desperately idle, searching for a distraction. The distraction came in the form of a strange man, tall and lean with eerie green eyes that should peer out of the darkness in abandoned streets, not wink at Lovino under the soft yellow light of a busy building.

Antonio wasn’t ideal, but Feliciano was quick to remind him that neither were they. Well, it was Lovino’s fault anyway for allowing Antonio to keep talking until even Feliciano’s squirrely attention was grabbed.

Antonio made sure Feliciano went to school every day. The two of them got along real well, to Lovino’s chagrin, and he knew it wasn’t his imagination that lent whisperings around the corner like, _“Is he ever in a good mood?”_ and _“Oh, it’s just his way.”_

Of course, the mighty fall rather easily with his brother. All it took were the first few disappearances for Feliciano to become disillusioned with Antonio’s flighty lifestyle. Antonio had never had Lovino squarely in his corner to begin with and therefore lost a less face when Lovino slapped several dubious pictures on the dining table at four in the morning.

Antonio had been quiet only a moment before he asked, “This is a bit dramatic of a presentation, don’t you think?”

“Fucking excuse me?”

“I’m just saying, you have my number, Lovi.” Antonio drummed his fingers on the center picture: it showed Antonio in the backyard, lighting a cigarette with his thumb. “Could’ve just texted these.”

The conversation ended in a _touché_ because, by around 8am, Antonio had managed to convince Lovino that “loud” was a superpower in his case. Practicing his power was a little tough until Feliciano went onto a college. Then Lovino started calling Antonio “Valorous Ace” full-time and himself “Vexation Cerise.” Taken names, to protect themselves from others like them who would try to control them with their given names. Valorous made his money during those disappearances solving the mysteries of fellow mages, a business that Vex soon wanted a piece of. And Feliciano, well, he just kept going to school.

“Hang right. We’re getting off on this exit,” Vex said about an hour into their drive. The GPS on Valorous’s phone didn’t speak above a whisper ever since Vex had pissed off an elemental they were spying on. Next thing he knew, a tentacle of nearby river water had splashed into the air and smacked the phone right out of his hand.

Valorous yanked the wheel towards the right so fast Vex’s head hit the passenger window. “Jesus, Valor, can you fucking drive like a sane person for one day?” he snapped.

“Sorry,” Valorous said sheepishly. “I didn’t want the guy who passed me earlier that I passed later to think I was slowing down.”

Vexation rolled his eyes. “In that case, by all means, kill us to prove a point.”

Valorous smirked, turning his whole head to face Vex. “Glad you see it my way,” he returned smugly.

“You just blew a red light,” Vex lied.

The smugness dropped from Valorous’ face as he twisted around. “Oh, shit, really?”

Vex leaned further into his seat, minimizing the GPS app so he could dick around on his partner’s games. “Yeah,” he lied again.

Valorous swore under his breath but now his eyes were on the road. The rest of the drive passed relatively quietly, Vex feeding Valorous directions in between Dig Dug and Spider Solitaire. During the last ten minutes, Valorous turned on the radio which inevitably led to more static than music as he debated on foreign channels. “Stop,” commanded Vex.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stick to this station, promise,” Valorous said, gesturing in peace with the hand that had been hovering over the consul.

“No, stop the car,” Vex clarified. “We’re—”

Valorous slammed on the break instantaneously, causing Vex to double over before the belt jerked him back into place. “Here,” he finished, pushing down the annoyance. He had learned to be a unified front before clients a while back, which meant avoiding unnecessary bickering on the job. He noticed Valorous had already vacated his seat in the car and was now circling over to Vex’s side. Vex swiftly followed suit before Valorous could cheekily open his door for him. Valorous was fond of doing that stupid sort of thing.

Their client’s house was exactly as Vex would have imagined it to be; one-level with basement windows in the foundation, a tiny little porch, all condensed into a faded yellow square. It was perfectly non-descript. From his time interacting with mages, Vex had gathered that their dwellings could either be categorized as distinctively indistinct or ludicrously grand. Torrid Astir was clearly in the former category. Even the little American flag protruding from the shingles only added to its generality.

It could’ve been anyone’s house, really, but in this special case it was the house of a mage in need of magical help.

Valorous knocked on the door then rang the doorbell without pause. There was the sound of something heavy moving, like furniture, and then heavy footsteps pounding a trail towards the front.

Valorous and Vex shared a look. “Thin walls,” Valorous observed, glancing back at the door.

Vex had expected a tentative opening of the door but instead it was thrown open without the paranoid fanfare of their typical client. Standing in the threshold was a man approximately Valorous’ height but with far broader shoulders and a shock of messy blonde hair with a single cowlick near his bangs. A pair of spectacles rested on his nose just barely made him less imposing. Vex found himself squaring his shoulders instinctively as Torrid Astir’s shadow engulfed him. His t-shirt clearly wasn’t meant to cling because it hung like a bad of his torso, so its tight fit around his biceps and pecs was owed to Torrid’s own physique. The man worked out.

“Well, there’s no knife to my throat yet, so I’m going to let you into my home now,” Torrid said in a molasses drawl as he backed up. “But you’re gonna’ have to confirm your names for me before I turn my back.”

“What, you’re expecting your killers at exactly ten in the morning?” Vex remarked at the same time Valorous confirmed, “I’m Valorous Ace and this here is my partner Vexation Cerise.”

Torrid shrugged and languidly turned around. Vex sensed a lack of concern in how their client held himself. It should’ve been a pleasant change from the standard paranoia and anxiety most clients were plagued with, but instead Vex was feeling aggravated. “I don’t know,” Torrid said. He was leading them into a yellow-walled, brown-carpeted living room. “Someone could’ve intercepted for all I know, red,” he explained and pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose.

“‘Red’?” Vex quoted. “We’re on nicknames already?”

Torrid flopped down onto a threadbare loveseat that looked like it came straight from the 70s. “Guess so,” he said, rubbing his nose. Then he raised his eyebrows. “Red.”

Valorous was looking around for a place to sit. The only furniture in the room, unfortunately, was Torrid’s outdated loveseat. After a few moments of visible pondering, he strode over to the arm opposite Torrid and perched there. His long legs spilled onto the floor, flat-fronted pants crinkling around the thighs. His polished shoes stood out in contrast atop the stained and dingey carpet.

“So,” Valorous began with a deep inhale, “this is your place of residence?”

Torrid shrugged again. “One of them for now. I had been crashing at my boyfriend’s for a while, but it’s gone sour so I’m outtie.”

Vex made a mental note to inquire into his other shelters later. Torrid’s body meanwhile was a flurry of nervous energy, feet tapping and fingers drumming along the back of the couch. Vex couldn’t tell if it was from actual nerves or some annoying quirk. He scrutinized the client while Valorous spoke. “How sour, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Vex rolled his eyes at Valorous’ polite performance. As if this information wasn’t _necessary._

“Sour enough for him to send drones after me?” Torrid asked. He lifted his feet up as if something on them had caught his interest before suddenly dropping them back to the dirty-looking floor. “Who knows with that guy, man. One minute he’s normal—” Torrid winced, “—ish. The next minute, he’s, well crazy _ish_. All fair’s, though, right?”

“Not all, Mr. Astir,” Valorous said with these put-on eyes of sympathy. Vex felt it unneeded; Torrid hardly looked the part of a battered housewife. Nothing in his body language or easy drawl betrayed fear.

“What do you mean, ‘drones’?” Vex cut in sharply.

Torrid met Vex’s eyes. “Well, I don’t mean aircraft. People, normal people like you and me—”

“We’re hardly normal,” Vex corrected.

“— except they’re dead-eyed and weirdly focused. They don’t talk or shout or flinch.” He turned his head towards Valorous and leaned forward. “I ripped one guy’s arm off. He just stood right up and kept coming for me. Didn’t even break eye contact.” Bringing his knee up and settling against the dingy cushion, Torrid finished, “Messed up, man.”

Vex inhaled deeply and cut the air with his hand. “I’m sorry, you ripped off a man’s arm?”

Torrid’s gaze was wide-eyed when he broke away from the conspiratorial ambiance he had built with Valorous. “Yeah,” he said simply. “To beat the other guy up. Needed a weapon.”

Vex tried to form his next response but his jaw had gone slack around the words. Torrid went on, “What? I don’t carry guns on me or anything like you creepos.” Torrid motioned towards the handgun fastened on Valorous’ hip where his jacket had ridden up to reveal it.

Valorous nodded faux-sagely. “He has a point, Vexation.”

Vex shook his head in bafflement. “No, he doesn’t. If you can rip off arms, why would you need someone else’s arm? Just rip off that guy’s arm too!”

Torrid wrinkled his nose. “Seems unnecessary.” To Valorous, he said, “Kind of a violent partner you got.”

Valorous looked heavenward. “Don’t I know it, Mr. Astir.”

Vex was stammering. “Or just punch him? Why rip off an arm, you can incapacitate by knocking them unconscious or, fuck, suplexing them –”

“Wow, really getting into this scenario, huh?” Torrid asked.

“Oh, fuck off, whatever,” Vex dismissed. “So, you’re being chased by possessed maniacs hellbent on your death. Go on.” He leaned against the windowsill behind him and waved Torrid on.

Torrid licked his lips and glanced at the two of them. “I mean, that’s the skinny, isn’t it? I guess –” Torrid rubbed the back of his hair and seemed to search his mind. “It’s been going on for a few months now. Almost ran me out of the country; I’m so tired of these shit-ass safehouses, but. I like it here in the States. There’s sunshine and Hollywood and, and - black people.”

“Black people,” Vex repeated.

“Yeah, I like a little diversity when I go out. You can’t find that in, say, Ireland. Or most of the U.K. for that matter.”

“Is that where you’re from?” asked Valorous.

“Eh, I’m from here and there, child of the world. Why, is that relevant?”

Valorous gave a small shrug. “It could be.”

Torrid quirked his mouth. “Then, no, I’m from here but my father is from England. We moved a lot when I was a kid, back and forth between Britain and America, and I guess it became a habit for me. I got a name for every place I’ve been because I always stir up trouble.”

“Big surprise there,” Vex commented. Valorous gave him a look, which Vex didn’t find fair because it _wasn’t_ a surprise. The man ripped people’s arms off.

“Then I met Halcyon – ah, my ex. We were last visiting Russia together, which is where he hails, but.” Torrid licked his lips again and took a moment to continue. “We wanted to get married where we first met. But we suck at getting along for more than a few months at a time.

“So. We separated. Nothing new or out of the ordinary. Honestly, I don’t even know if we’re, like, actually broken up. The first few times, we were on-and-off again. But once you lose track of the number of splits with the same guy, you kind of learn to live in some limbo between single and not-single.”

“When was your latest break-up? Did it coincide with these drones?” Valorous questioned.

Torrid’s answer was an unhappy one. “Yeah,” he said, facing the floor. He looked up. “Yeah, it did.”

Vex pushed himself off the windowsill and walked over to the loveseat. “Obviously, then, this Halcyon is our prime suspect.”

“Wow,” said Torrid. He mouthed the words _prime_ _suspect,_ taking them in and trying them on for size.

“In the meantime, Mr. Astir, we’re going to be following you,” Valorous followed up.

Torrid huffed a dry laugh. “Please, Mr. Astir was my father,” he quipped. He planted his feet on the floor and slapped his knees. “So! You’ll take my case? Get these possessed Annabelle’s off my back?”

“We shall,” agreed Valorous. “For the right price, that is.”

Vex wandered out into the hall as his partner confirmed the payment they had negotiated over the phone. The house had a tattered atmosphere. There was a staircase adjacent to the wall with yellowish wood and scuffed steps. The outdated, floral wallpaper was a tacky blue and peeling everywhere. Vex meandered further down the hall until he came upon the kitchen. It was surprisingly messy for a hostel supposedly only recently occupied. Dirty pots and pans arrayed the grainy counters and piled high in the sink. Empty fast food bags lay like rubble around the overstuffed trashcan.

Vex walked farther. There was an entryway that directly joined the kitchen to the living room, but no proper dining room. There wasn’t a bathroom or a laundry room either and Vex would’ve assumed they were in the basement he had noticed earlier if there were any stairs leading down.

Vex abandoned the kitchen in favor of the staircase back behind. He peered up the steps and tried to gauge how many rooms there might be. The stairs were narrow and led to a shadowy floor with nothing but a wall in view.

Sensing a lull in the conversation, Vex reentered the living room to answer his own questions. “How many rooms do you have upstairs?” he asked as he leaned against the doorless frame.

Torrid had made himself even more comfortable in Vex’s brief absence and was sprawled across the couch in a way that left no room for Valorous’ earlier perch. “Two,” said Torrid. Vex immediately looked to Valorous who stood by the box TV with his hands in his pockets. One room for Torrid, that left only one room for Vex and Valorous. The first image that came to his mind was of them sharing a bed, the lights off and the sound of Valorous’ breathing steady. The scene was straight out of the recent nights Vex spent in the room just opposite Valorous’, his parents across waters and Feliciano an hour away in a dorm. Everyone in the small world Vex had built for himself – gone, save for the quiet breath of the man on the other side of the wall. It helped him fall asleep to imagine there wasn’t a wall there at all.

“I can sleep on the couch then,” Vex heard Valorous volunteer. Valorous was looking strangely at him as he did.

“No need, bro,” Torrid said though. “I don’t sleep in either of those rooms. There’s a trapdoor that leads to the basement; that’s where I crash. You each get your own space.”

“That’s good news,” Vex muttered. Saying that felt like putting on a show or willing himself to mean it. “Don’t know how smart that basement trick of yours is, though,” he pointed out. “You can tell from outside there’s more underground.”

Torrid lifted one shoulder in a lazy half-shrug. “Maybe. I’ll hear them rummaging for a way down at any rate, which gives me more time than if I sleep upstairs.”

Valorous removed a hand from his pocket and rested it between the television’s antennae. “I think it’s a clever move,” he complimented. Vex scoffed but otherwise let it go.

“Thanks, man. I try not to die,” Torrid replied. Abruptly he straightened up and leaned forward over his knees. His eyes were round with excitement and bluer than before. “So, guess we’re having a slumber party,” he declared. His toothy grin made him seem both youthful and wicked, like a wild child eager to be in over his head.

So began Vex and Valor’s adventures with Torrid Astir.


End file.
